I don't know why, but I feel like suggesting some songs for this chapter. For this one, How to save a life by The Fray, Secrets by One Republic or What hurts the most by Rascal Flatts (again). The last one especially.

Chapter 2:

How We Became

Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.

- Buddha

New Orleans

The only noise that she could hear was the footsteps behind her, mimicking her own.

Almost every week, this was her routine. Walking around after a suitable hour, when all the married women had returned home to their families, until one of them followed. Make sure to hesitate when they approach, but remain friendly. Make sure to decline their offers to walk you home, but don't look back when you turn into the nearest alley.

Every move, every word, every shift of the eyes was planned. She had to remain naive and open, or else they would know. After all, a trail of murdered men was suspicious. They would never suspect her though.

Never would anyone suspect that sweet Scarlett girl who spent her free time reading in the park.

Nope, never Scarlett.

She stopped, pretending to look at the street signs for directions she already knew. That's when he approached.

He was calm and collected, like many of the others. They always made themselves look as harmless as they could. They couldn't dare to throw caution to the wind. They had to have the ability to lure and trap. Being a mess lured no one.

"Are you lost?" The man said, quickly looking her up and down in way most people wouldn't catch.

Let it be known that Scarlett was not most people though. After all, she had once managed to capture the heart of a certain renowned Mikaelson boy.

That was a long time ago.

At times she caught herself thinking about him and how he was doing without her, but she always stopped herself from dwelling too deep into those thoughts. He left her. Although her actions played a massive role in his reasoning, she couldn't help but reason with herself. What happened that night was something he had yet to discover, and it was his own fault for not waiting until she was ready to speak.

He left her. He broke up with her.

Disgusting...

The amount of times that word ran through her head in all the days after it had been said were countless. She felt it in the morning when she got out of bed and when she returned in the night. She felt it when she saw any man even glance her way. Disgusting.

My, how one filthy word could have such an effect on someone.

With one last glance at the streets signs, Scarlett sighed and smiled at the stranger, "No, I am fine, sir."

"It isn't safe for a young lady such as yourself to be out so late," he said, edging towards her. "You never no danger until it happens. Come, I'll walk you home."

"I thank you for the chivalry, good sir. But I do strongly believe that the lord will keep me safe."

As if. Scarlett was about as religious as the pillow her head rested on every night. She was once a believer, but circumstances have a way of effecting the opinions of people. As slow as the melting of the wax belonging to a candle, Scarlett's beliefs had dwindled away until there was nothing left. God and Lord were just common words to her.

"Oh, but I insist," he pressed on, taking her by the elbow.

She turned, almost as if she was unaware of him touching her suddenly.

Oh, but she wasn't. She was aware of every touch, every look, every breath.

"I must decline your offer again, good sir, but I do not even know your name," she offered a kind smile before walking away.

Again he reached out and took her elbow. He spun her around, staring directly into her eyes.

"You will do as I wish."

Scarlett couldn't help but smirk at his attempt to compel her. But she would give him exactly what he wished for.

"I'm hoping that's a death wish," she said, giving him only the slightest of seconds to put the pieces together.

Her hand shot to his heart, squeezing it and scraping her fingernails against it. She could feel the life slowly draining from him as she gave short tugs.

It took every bit of his remaining energy to spit in her face.

"Bitch."

Scarlett pouted mocking, "And here I was hoping you might a bit more original than that."

Metaphorically, this man didn't have a heart and now he didn't have one physically either. Just an empty cavity. His body that now lay on the floor was merely a vessel.

Scarlett tossed the heart to the side and sighed to herself. She grabbed a small handkerchief in her pocket, cleaning away the blood on her hand.

She hadn't expected to finish tonight off so quickly. Usually they were more patient. Granted, this one had been a vampire but still. Well, while she had some time to kill, Scarlett decided maybe a quick visit to the local pub for some music would be alright. She always loved music.

Music to the ears was like delicious food to the tongue. Music makes you feel so nonchalant and satisfied. You can just melt into the rhythm and the beat until it completely engulfs you. It consumes you to point where you hear nothing else. Nothing else matters as you create pictures in your head that somehow magically go along with the music. Nothing matters but you and the music.

"Excuse me, miss. You seem to have dropped your napkin."

Scarlett snapped out of her thoughts when the voice reached her ears. She smiled kindly at the young man with the bright blue eyes as he handed her the napkin that had previously been set on her table.

"Thank you, sir. I hadn't realized."

"Is someone sitting in that seat?" he asked, pointing at the chair beside her.

Scarlett shook her head, "No, it is free for the taking."

The man smiled at her and sat, "My name is Norman, and yours?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Norman. My name is Scarlett."

He had spotted her the moment she stepped foot inside. She may not have noticed him, but he sure as hell noticed her. He always did. It was as if her presence was forever engraved into his brain. And he despised it. He still despised her.

He had seen her around town, but he had always been able to keep his distance from her. Now if he were to get up to leave, a breeze from the opening of the door might blow his scent to her.

So he stayed put and studied her as she zoned out exactly like how she used to before. Unfortunately however, he also watched how that boy approached her and, despite himself, he listened in on the conversation.

"Is someone sitting in that seat?"

"No, it is free for the taking."

"My name is Norman, and yours?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Norman. My name is Scarlett."

Something inside him twitched. Was it anger? Or jealously, perhaps? No, he had conditioned himself to forget such matters when regarding his former lady.

But he still found himself pondering on whether he should interrupt their conversation. It would make her angry, which he so wanted to do, but it also forced him to converse with her.

He decided angering her outweighed the latter. She would spend the rest of her life being interrupted by him and feeling the anger and betrayal he felt. He had sworn on his own life that he would do just that.

Why didn't he just kill her? The answer to that is that he simply couldn't. Whether he was being merciful or he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did or if killing her felt like an easy way out, he didn't know. He only knew that he couldn't bring himself to do. He couldn't be responsible for her death.

That was all he knew.

She could feel eyes watching her from across the room, but she refused to turn her head and meet his gaze. No, she would continue her chat with this kind young man. She would continue to bat her eyelashes. She would continue showing interest in this young man with the bright blue eyes, because she deserved some sort of happiness in life. She deserved the ability to push him away for good. She wouldn't let him continue to bring her down along with him in his downward spiral to his attention-deprived abyss.

But why did he still have this effect on her? It had been almost 500 years since he proclaimed that he wanted nothing to do with her.

"Besides, what's a lady like yourself doing all alone at this time?" asked Norman, smiling brightly.

Murdering anyone who even tries to make any unwanted advances towards me

"I quite enjoy the night time. You can only see so much during the day."

She felt him before she heard or saw him. His glare burned into her shoulders as he walked towards her and leaned against the counter.

"You also enjoy making a mockery of others, but let's not dissect your nasty side," Kol said as he hovered over her shoulder, his breath hot against her skin. "Leave."

Norman left without complaint. Compelling someone interested in her? It was not a first, but this was the first time he did it right in front of her. She was beginning to think he was losing his touch of being able to keep track of who spoke to her.

Kol slid into the seat previously occupied by Norman, a mocking smirk dancing on his face. "Still sleeping around, I see."

Scarlett didn't even flinch. She had grown accustomed to his insults and, although it had hurt for the first 100 years, she had realized that it only added to her list of reasons as to why he should never know the truth. He wasn't worthy of it, and he would continue to be oblivious to any truth until he realized how much of a dick he was being.

But could she blame him? She had been the one who started it. It was her fault. Even if she knew what had happened that night hadn't been her fault (only took 200 years to understand that), she still felt the blame and the guilt as if it had, and all of Kol's insults and sarcastic remarks only added to it.

"Still being a jealous prick, I see," she paused, glancing at him under her lashes. "How's Elijah?"

Kol scoffed, deciding to ignoring her last question and avoid an angry outburst. "Oh, but there is nothing to be jealous of."

She laughed at his own stupid denial.

"Oh, but there is. You see, when we were ―how do I put this― together, all of my attention was on you. Now that we aren't, you are attention-deprived. And, ignoring your constant intrusion, I can actually keep relationships unlike you, who is continuously tossing people to the side when you're done with them. That's where jealously comes in. You are using your anger as an excuse to project your own attention-deprived life onto me. But it's not anger, no. You are just jealous of what I have that you don't. Maybe that's why your family ignores you so much―"

"That's something coming from you," he said coolly, but the squeezing of his fists betrayed him. They were clenched so tightly that blood began to seep through the cracks between his fingers. "Especially since you know well enough that testing my patience will end with your body discarded somewhere where it may rot."

Scarlett smirked. She knew he would never kill her. Injure her, maybe, but kill? Never. "Oh, I've hit a nerve. The truth is soul-shattering thing, isn't it? I suggest you learn it before you call me disgusting again."

"I don't want to hear something I already know. I know the whole disgusting situation you put yourself in all those years ago."

"Have you ever heard anything ever escape my mouth about the subject? No, you haven't and even if I wanted to tell you, you would simply see it as me making an excuse!"

It was Kol's turn to laugh. "What do you plan on saying? 'It was mistake', 'he kissed me', 'it wasn't my fault'. Enlighten me, darling."

Scarlett narrowed her eyes. She muttered something about it being a waste of her time before marching away.

She could feel the anger in her boiling to the brim, but she kept herself in check. She couldn't show her emotions. Even if he knew, she refused to confirm his thoughts. She would act like it hadn't affected her, just as she had pretended for the last 500 years that him leaving her didn't hurt as much as it had initially. No, she wouldn't satisfy his need to see her hurt. She would be strong for herself, because she had no one to be strong for her. In truth, she was his mirror image.

Lonely, and hurt, and angry with a desperate need for attention.

She needed that confirmation from someone. That she was still worthy of attention, no matter how filthy she felt on those particularly terrible days. Even if it was bad attention, as it was on the nights she went on her hunts; it was still attention.

And that thirst was heavier than her thirst for blood.

He never intended to follow her out. He wanted to make her angry and he had gotten that, but something made him get up and follow her.

He knew that she was aware of his presence and he would let that irritate her. There was no need for words. Silence was good enough for now.

There wasn't a precise moment when he noticed that she was leading him somewhere, but he had. The way she peered around corners, as if she was searching for something. As if she was worried what she was looking for had been moved.

Her pace quickened, then suddenly halted at the corner of a street.

There was something laying there, slumped in an awkward position.

Kol was at her side in seconds, eying the thing cautiously. "What is this?"

Scarlett kept her head down, hiding her face from him as she stared down at the vampire she had killed earlier that night.

"Physically, a vampire. Emotionally, a demon of sorts."

Kol furrowed his eyebrows. Why had she led him here? Why was this thing of importance?

Scarlett caught the confusion that formed on his dark features. She sighed, reaching into her pocket to remove her bloody handkerchief.

"A trail of murderer men, around this hour every four days for the past three months," she began, playing idly with the piece of fabric in her hands. "All murders were committed around this time of night. Lured, trapped and finally killed. All killed by me."

She handed the handkerchief to Kol, staring blankly across the street. "The truth I hide from you is beyond description right now. With the information I have given you, you can figure out the rest. Then if you still feel the same way with your thoughts now, you can call me disgusting if you so please."

Then she was gone.

And Kol was left to ponder on what she said.

Unfortunately, being staked by his brother for the next century had a way of keeping him from the truth longer than he intended.

Hope that was satisfying. I particularly enjoyed how the chapter ended.

Tell me what you think of it and what I can improve on! It would be much appreciated!

Again, the next chapter skips some time, but I'm excited to write it. My outline for it makes me very eager!

See you next time!

-Stitch